


You're Holy (I'm High on Loving You)

by awkwardCerberus



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Dorks in Love, Fourth of July, M/M, and HC that bitty can totally drive a stick shift, the wiki said jack like country music and pick up trucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 07:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8136175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardCerberus/pseuds/awkwardCerberus
Summary: "...Let me lay you down, give me to yaGet you singing babe, hallelujahWe'll be touchingWe'll be touching heaven..."
Inspired by frame 5 in "Junior Year #1 - WAG", where Jack visits Bitty in Madison and they sit in the back of a pickup watching fireworks.





	

**Author's Note:**

> in light of the recent heart wrenching update (that turned my American Govt. textbook into a sopping wad off tissues), i figured I'd better publish something positive before i angst myself into an early grave
> 
> This was originally part of a longer, multichapter fic, but it worked better on its own so now its its own seperate work. The rest of the chapters will still be posted, but just as a selerate work.
> 
> Title, summary, and the song at the end are all from "H.O.L.Y." by Florida Georgia Line.

Something about watching Bitty drive his father's truck made butterflies zip around Jack's stomach like a loose puck on the ice. It wasn't anything fancy - a beat up, dark blue, single-cab from 1980 that Coach swore still had another ten good years on it, even though the clutch squealed whenever it was let up.

Jack had his arm along the back of the seat, his knee bumping against Bitty's with the movement of the truck. The radio station is turned on low, playing something that neither of them recognize, but that has a nice tune. They'd been driving down some gravel backroad for the past half hour, enjoying the quiet scenery and the setting sun on the outskirts of Madison.

The sky had turned a dark red-orange and Bitty had clicked the headlights on after a few minutes; Jack almost wished he'd brought his camera.

Bitty jerked down on the gearshift and the clutch whined again when he let his foot up, "oh, hush you."

Jack kissed the side of his head and let out a breathy laugh, "maybe your dad should get his truck looked at."

"Believe me, we've tried to tell him that. But he just says, 'it still has another ten good years on it. No point if it isn't broke'."

The truck slowed to a stop in front of a rusted-over gate - it looked like someone had crashed into it at one point, the left side warped around a chain that was tethering it to a barbed wire fence that branched out on both sides.

Bitty hopped out of the truck with an excited little, "we're here!" and jogged up to the gate. The chain wasn't much security considering it didn't have a lock, and he had to wrestle the chain out from where it was twisted up inside the bent metal. He'd left the driver's door open when he'd gotten out, and Jack could hear him arguing politely with both pieces of metal.

Finally, Bitty hung the chain on the fence and the gate swung open (with an ungodly squeaking noise that resembled a dying animal). He climbed back into the truck - wiping dirt off his hands with a rag stuffed into the map pocket on the driver's door, before pulling the door shut and continuing down the road.

The scenery hadn't changed, except for a lone tree standing out against the sloping fields, and against the night sky, it looked like a painting.

Bitty turned off the gravel and onto the grass, and immediately the ride went from "mildly bumpy" to "extreme off-roading". The moment the tires had left the road, the cab bounced so hard that Jack hit his head on the roof. Bitty had to fight with the gearshift and kick at the clutch every other second; Jack found himself staring like a fish because - in all honesty - he was getting a little turned on.

"Bits, I didn't know you could drive a stick shift," he said, both surprised and a little amazed.

"I wouldn't call this 'driving', honey, this is more like 'fighting'."

Jack rubbed his thumb along Bitty's shoulder as he pulled the truck up under tree. He turned the engine off but kept the car running, one hand immediately flying to the radio dials to retune the station and turn up the volume.

"...still have 'bout five minutes 'fore the Danielsville County fireworks show," the radio announcer said, sounding like he was leaning back in his chair, "so get'chur blankets all set up and stay tuned to - "

Bitty was almost beside himself with excitement, shoving his door open with his foot and tugging at his boyfriend's sleeve, "oh, sweetheart, c'mon! They're gonna start any minute!"

They hopped out of the truck and went around to the back, both fumbling around in the dark for the handle on the tailgate. Their hands came together on the handle and they pulled the tailgate down with their fingers laced together.

Jack smiled and nodded at the bed of the pickup and holding up their hands, "after you."

Bitty smiled affectionately, his other hand on the side on the truck, "why, Mr. Zimmermann, you gentleman."

They both climbed in to the bed and Jack helped Bitty set up the pillows and blankets they'd brought. Bitty picked up the second blanket and a six pack of bottles clinked together with the movement.

Jack arched an eyebrow at him, looking back and forth between the bottles and Bitty, "did you really bring beer?"

"Oh heavens no. Momma doesn't let alcohol anywhere _near_ a car." Bitty spread the blanket he was holding over the top of the pillows and the truck bed before holding up two of the bottles, "it's sweet tea!"

"Sweet tea?"

Bitty gasped, holding one hand over his heart dramatically and looking utterly appalled, "don't tell me you've never had sweet tea!"

Jack shook his head, looking apologetic, and gave his boyfriend a guilty smile.

"Jack Laurent Zimmermann, I cannot _believe_ you!" Bitty pulled the keys from his pocket and found the bottle opener keychain; he popped open both bottles and passed one to Jack.

The two of them sat down in the bed on a small pile of blankets and pillows, leaning back against the cab. Jack pulled one of the blankets up around both of their shoulders, resting his arm around Bitty's shoulders again. Bitty curled up into Jack's side, and Jack pressed several kisses onto the top of his head.

The song on the radio faded out and the announcer came back on, "alright folks, the sheriff just gave the thumbs up, so the fireworks should be startin' up any second now. To kick off y'all's night, here's Florida Georgia Line to wish y'all a _holy_ Fourth."

He laughed at his own pun, but apparently he was the only one who found it funny enough to warrant a response.

"Hey," Jack nudged Bitty's arm with his bottle, "I like this song."

Bitty look up at him, surprised, "you of all people like country music?" Jack nodded and he shrugged, curling back into his boyfriend's shoulder, "I never would have guessed."

Off beyond the hills there were several echoing _BANGs_ , and a few streaks of light shot into the sky. The fireworks exploded in shades of white and gold, some spiraling off in every direction, others branched out like streamers.

Jack started mumbling along to the chorus, pressing kisses into Bitty's temple between lines, "...you're an angel, tell me you're never leaving, cause you're the first thing I know I can believe in..."

Another round of fireworks went off, and Jack tipped Bitty's chin up with his knuckle and pressed their lips closer together. Bitty's lips were soft, tasting of sweet tea and the vanilla chapstick he used. Jack set his tea down and cupped his boyfriend's cheeks in his hand; Bitty had both arms draped loosely around Jack's neck.

"I love you so much, Jack."

"I love you too, Bits."

There were several more loud explosions, and the whole sky lit up in red and blues. Behind them, the song on the radio drifted out of the open windows, _"You're holy, holy, holy; I'm high on loving you, high on loving you..."_

Bitty moved onto Jack's lap, the blanket drooping off his shoulder and onto the bed of the truck, and pressed their foreheads together. They kissed again, slow, pulses thrumming to the music in the background, and it was perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd so mistakes are mine.


End file.
